


Warmth

by startwithsparks



Series: MMOM 2014 [11]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Prostitution
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-08-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 23:14:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2128086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startwithsparks/pseuds/startwithsparks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are ways to keep warm on the Wall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Warmth

Satin crouched down near the fireplace, his furs wrapped tight around him and tucked in close to keep from straying dangerously towards glowing embers. He quietly stoked the fire, enjoying the warmth across his face and bare hands as he lingered close. Outside the brutal Northern winds whipped and whistled, sending swirls of snow dancing through the fortress. It might have been beautiful, were they not all worried about the quite real possibility that some of them might not make it through the night. Satin counted himself lucky to have a small room to tuck himself into, a fire that burned strong in the corner, and thick furs to wrap around his own lean body. He also had Jon, though the Lord Commander made for a quiet company.  
  
He was sitting at his table, grey furs draped over his slumped shoulders, as he read over a scrap of parchment again and again. Ghost, usually underfoot, instead laid near Satin, stretched out near the inner wall of the room. The direwolf had been sound asleep since before Satin started tending the fire, and was now breathing deeply, contently, in the silence of the room.   
  
Satin rose and nudged a bit of ash back towards the fireplace with the toe of his boot, then made his way slowly towards the bed. He didn't so much as undress before he crawled in, waiting until the bed had warmed around him to burrow beneath the furs and tug off his boots and belt. There was no sense in taking off any more than that, but he was used to sleeping nude in the warm Southern air, and he still couldn't stand to sleep with shoes on. Jon was different, he had been raised in this hellish cold, and could sleep through the whole winter if only the weight of all his expectations didn't settle so heavy on his shoulders.  
  
As his boots thumped down on the floor, Satin peered out from beneath the furs towards Jon, trying to decide if he wanted to disturb him and beckon him to bed or just let him be for the night. But he looked paler than usual, and a little more gaunt than Satin was comfortable with.  
  
"Come to bed, Jon..." he murmured. "Just for a little while. You don't have to stay here, but you should at least try to sleep."  
  
He fully expected an argument, or at least to be ignored, instead Jon sighed heavily and dropped the parchment in his hands. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair, disrupting his thick curls even more than they already were. Then he rose from the table and made his way to bed, unbuckling his cloak as he moved. He draped the fur across the bed, adding another layer to the heavy barrier between them and the bitter cold. Satin would never stop being amazed at how it didn't seem to faze him, so long as he was inside and had a bit of a fire to keep him warm. If he undressed without being surrounded by layers of blankets, he felt he would die of the shock of cold.  
  
Jon slipped beneath the blankets next to him without saying a word, curling his body towards Satin's own form huddled against the wall.  
  
"That wasn't as difficult as I thought it would be," he offered with a soft smile.  
  
"I'm tired," Jon murmured, sliding closer, "So unbelievably tired and I'm still not sure I can sleep."  
  
Satin offered him a sympathetic look, slipping his hand between them to rest on Jon's hip. "It's best you try, though."  
  
"You're right," he nodded, "though you have the remarkable ability of always being right when I don't want you to be."  
  
"By the gods," Satin teased, "did you just make a joke?"  
  
"I'm not entirely sure," he replied, reaching back out and trailing his fingers along Satin's arm.  
  
It was nice to have him smiling, even if the expression was hidden at the corners of his lips, under the shadow of a dark beard. Satin pulled him closer by the front of his shirt, unwilling to give up his position on the warm side of the bed by much. Instead, he would drag Jon towards him, just adding the other man's warmth to his own.  
  
"You should let me help you relax," he offered.  
  
Jon's brows furrowed, "You don't have to."  
  
"I know I don't," Satin said. "I'm offering because I want to, because I like touching you, and because I want you to relax a little."  
  
He sighed again and rest his forehead against Satin's, his fingers sliding up under the edge of the younger man's shirt to ghost softly against his skin. "Only if you let me touch you as well."  
  
Satin smiled and slid his hand up into Jon's hair, playfully twisting his fingers through curls as he drew Jon closer. He hesitated a moment, as though they hadn't been doing this for months. There was always something, perhaps it was nothing more than Jon's own insecurity, that lingered between them. But Satin didn't pay much attention to it, he was used to men who were nowhere near as comfortable with intimacy as he was, he just waited for Jon to come closer, his breath warm in the brief moment before he pressed his lips against Satin's mouth.  
  
His hand slid further up Satin's shirt, fingertips grazing up his spine. His hands were warm from being stuffed inside gloves and furs, a stark contrast to Satin's own chilly fingertips. He wasn't as acclimated to the cold, though he did enjoy finding new ways to warm himself, the most satisfying of which was burrowing close to Jon's chest and letting himself be warmed by the other man's bulk. Tangling their legs together, Satin rolled his body gently forward and hooked his leg around Jon's waist. He rolled onto his back, dragging Jon on top of him, before sliding his hands down between their bodies to fumble the laces on their pants loose. He did Jon's first, tugging and sliding his fingers through the leather ties until he was able to slip his fingers inside. Then he undid his own, shoving his pants down around his hips and inching a little closer so he could press himself against Jon.  
  
Still holding tight to him, Jon dug his fingers into Satin's hips, drawing him even closer yet. He hesitated to move his hands down towards his cock, but there was no hesitation in Satin's fingers, eagerly sliding down the front of Jon's pants to wrap around him. Jon's breath hitched and he rolled his hips forward, gripping onto the younger man even tighter. He slowly dragged his fingers away from Satin's hips and down, tugging apart the loose fabric of his pants and pressing his fingers inside.  
  
Satin squirmed against him, trying to get comfortable with their limbs tangled between them. In the dark room, the only noise other than their own breathing was the sound of the fire crackling and the wind racing outside, and Satin held his breath, trying to make as little noise as he could. There were already rumors about the two of them, the Lord Commander and his boy whore, and he didn't want to cause Jon any more trouble than he already got from the men on the Wall. But that didn't mean he was going to sacrifice being able to be close to him and touching him, just to keep someone else happy. They had all been sent here to die, one way or another, and if he was meant to spend his last days out in this bitter nothingness he wasn't going to give up the one real thing that made him happy.  
  
Jon had his own stubbornness about him, though his were much less selfish reasons. He wouldn't stand for anyone mistreating Satin, and not because he had given himself over completely to Jon, but because he saw what others refused to see, and wouldn't have him put out just because of who he had been before he arrived. It didn't much matter why to Satin, as long as he could spend his nights curled up next to Jon, and perhaps if he was lucky he might even get to fight and die next to him.  
  
For now, all he needed was this, the feel of Jon's hand tight around him and his cock slick against Satin's fingers. Between the heat of their bodies and the fervent way Jon kissed him, it didn't take long to forget about everything else that lingered outside that room.


End file.
